#Wednesday Addams Story

[marve2014]

No Time Like the Present

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader 

Part Four

Summary: Y/N meets Thing.

Warnings: Minor mention of violence, bullying.

Minors DNI

Word Count:2.9K

Authors Note: All characters aged up to 18. This is where the story diverges from the actual story line.

Outreach day was one day a year that the students of Nevermore coexisted with the kids of Jericho in order to "strengthen the bonds” between the two groups; At least that’s the spiel the mayor keeps giving all the businesses so they’ll let Nevermore students work in their shops. Tyler and I spent the morning talking about Wednesday and I’s not official, official first date while we waited for our Nevermore kid to show up. We were assigned the one and only Xavier Thorpe; the same one who hates Tyler and honestly makes me uncomfortable with how he looks at me and Wednesday. Making my iced coffee before people start trickling in, Xavier comes walking in. 

“Hello Xavier, how are you today?” you ask, trying to make polite conversation.

“I’m good y/n, how are you feeling after last night?” he smirks as he grabs an apron and makes his way behind the counter.

“If you must know, I had an amazing time. First dates are never really what you expect them to be, are they?” Smiling as you remember the feeling of Wednesday's hand in yours.. 

“First date? With who?” you can see the confusion flash across his face and can’t help but chuckle.

“With Wednesday of course. She was the one who demanded it was a date”. You decide to embellish the story just a little bit to make him even more uncomfortable  

“Wait, you and Wednesday?!? ‘“ he asks clearly shocked at the information you just provided.

“Yes, me and Wednesday. Is that a problem?' you question coldly.

“No, no, no problem at all. Just a little confused. I thought I was more her type.” He confesses as he starts wiping down the counter “guess she wasn’t playing hard to get, huh? Oh crap. And when I flirted with you before! Jesus I’m on idiot”

"Oblivious, yes, an idiot, eh, harsh words” you defend and give him a smile.

Tyler walks out of the breakroom and notices you and Xavier talking, you look over to him and he sends you a look that you know can lead to nothing good.

“I will be right back Xavier, it seems I am being summoned by that doofus over there” you laugh, walking towards Tyler as he pulls you into a hug when you reach him.

"Wednesday is at pilgrim world, wearing the costume and everything, we have no customers and Xavier can handle the few that come in.” Tyler rushes out all in one breath. 

“On my goodness, yes! Lets go! I’m so gonna use this to blackmail her. Xavier? We’ll be back in 10 minutes hold down the fort.” 

“Aye, aye captain.”  he mock salutes you as you and Tyler make your way to pilgrim word. Looking through the crowd trying to find Wednesday, you notice a smaller kid surrounded by 3 older boys – all dressed up like pilgrims. You leave Tyler and make your way over and see the smaller boy struggling as one of the older ones is trying to force him into a wooden contraption.

“HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You run over and all of them stare at you.

“Go away, this doesn’t have anything to do with you, outcast lover.” The ring leader says as he tries to get the small boy to stop squirming. You look around trying to find an adult as you feel someone walk directly next to you. 

“Howdy Pilgrims.” You look and see Wednesday staring at the situation with a cold decisive look in her eyes. “ I suggest you let Eugene go”. Wednesday rests her arm on the top of the wooden stock preventing it from closing on him. 

“What do you want to end up in the stocks too?” The ring leader asks as you pull the kid Wednesday called Eugene from the wooden stock and put your arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

“If I recall, we did this dance before and it didn’t end up well for you.” Wednesday smugly states as the larger boy makes a move to grab her. You stay with Eugene and Wednesday ends up tossing the kid to the floor and breaks his finger; all of the Jericho boys flee and you and Wednesday tend to Eugene. You're cleaning his uniform when Wednesday walks over and takes in the both of you smiling and laughing despite what just happened. 

“Why do I always find you in trouble?” Wednesday asks while you finish cleaning up Eugene.

“Well I couldn’t let them just be mean to Eugene. It would be like hurting a puppy!” You laugh and stare at Wednesday noticing how beautiful she looks.

“You are absolutely gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?” You ask and can tell Wednesday is starting to blush.

“I assume you two know each other?” Eugene interrupts. 

“Yes Eugene, this is y/n. She’s a normie. But she’s MY normie.” Wednesday declares ready to defend you if Eugene were to say something cross. You can feel your cheeks heating up at her casualness of mentioning you two being an item, unable to hide your smile you grab Wednesdays hand in yours.

“Well Eugene, it was a pleasure meeting you but I need to borrow Wednesday here.” You smile and lead both you and Wednesday back to the Weathervane walking in, still hand and hand with each other you make Wednesday sit at the table closest to the cash register you leave her there while you make her, her usual all the while Xavier is staring at you both mouth gaped open,with how easily she is letting you order her around; something he imaged should not even be possible with how strong willed the Wednesday Addams he knows is.  Xavier makes his way over to the table you sat Wednesday at and smugly looks her up and down.

“Never thought I would see Wednesday Addams act so domestic.”

“Xavier, I’m going to stay this once and only once, if you value your life you’re going to keep your mouth shut and not mention what’s seen here today to anyone at Nevermore.”

“Ill keep that in mind.” He smiles and makes a move to sit across from Wednesday.

“Xavier, if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to actually work; not harass customers. Go wipe something down.” You glare and make sure he’s away from Wednesday before she can threaten him anymore. Finishing up her drink, you walk over and take where Xavier was going to sit. You look Wednesday in the eyes “I am taking you somewhere tonight, be at the gates of the school at 9:00p.m. Okay? And dress warm. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Fine, but I need to talk to Tyler, has he made it back yet?” She questions.

“No clue, let me check the back. One minute”. You run to the back break room and see Tyler sitting in one of the chairs drinking an energy drink and playing some game on his phone. 

“Wednesday needs you, please and thank youuuu.” You smile and wait for him to follow. 

“The peasant you were seeking ma’am.” You motion to tyler.

“How can I be of service?” Tyler jokes as Wednesday pulls out a map she got from Pilgrim World.

“I need to know where on this map is the old pilgrims meeting house from the 1600s.” 

Tyler looks down at the map confused and then points to a secluded area.

“There, but its kind of sketchy, Squatters and meth heads use it as a crash pad. My dad has to clear it out every few weeks. Why are you looking for it?” 

“No reason.” Wednesday coldly states as she looks from Tyler to you. 

“Becoming obsessed with the monster in the woods, are we?” Tyler jokes.

“Okayyyy, and that’s enough interaction between the two of you. Wednesday here has to go play her cello and then she has a date to get ready for” you usher Tyler away and pull Wednesday in for a hug. You feel her stiffen and then immediately relax into your arms. “I will see you later, Lovely. Okay?” You kiss her cheek and send her on her way.

Feeling the stares from both Tyler and Xavier, you ignore both of them and make yourself a coffee before the lunch rush comes in. 

The rest of the shift goes by without a hitch, Xavier staying away from Tyler, and everyone staying away from you until it was time to close. You and Tyler head to your house so you can get ready for your date. 

“So what exactly did you plan for your date?” Tyler asks as he starts rummaging through the fridge looking for a snack.

“A dinner picnic. You can eat anything in that fridge but so help me if you touch the cheese. It’s for tonight.” You yell as you make your way up the stairs. Looking through your clothes, you decide on jeans and a sweater so that you will be warm in the cold night air. Walking back down stairs you get a picnic basket from the Hall closet and bring it into the kitchen. Getting some fancy bread, crackers, fruit and cheese you start loading it all up as Tyler sits there watching eating some form of food in an old takeout container. 

“Do you think shell like this?” You nervously ask, placing some drinks into the basket.

“I think she would literally let you sit there and just stare at her and she would have a good time. I mean you got kidnapped and she classified it as a date.” 

“You’re not wrong. Okay, foods packed, Im ready. You can stay if you want. My mom will be home in like an hour; you know she loves feeding you. I’m out.” You hug Tyler, leaving him in the house as you make your way to the gates of Nevermore. Pulling near the gates, you see Wednesday and you put the car in park and hop out. Grabbing the black roses you hid in the backseat, you make your way over to her and pull the passenger door open for her.

“I know you love black flowers, and these are a lot easier to find than black dahlias. I hope you like them.” You smile as you close her door and get in the drivers side. 

“Thank you for the flowers, not everyone can appreciate a dead flower. But I do.”

“Kay, so I promise im not bringing you to our next location to murder you. I feel like you could take me down and kill me faster than I could kill you, however, It is a spooky place, but that’s your vibe, and I want you to be comfortable.” You explain nervously as you start driving toward your destination. 

Pulling into an old cemetery you see a small smile at the corners of Wednesday’s lips. 

‘’This is an acceptable location for the date.” Wednesday tries to not seem excited.

You get the blanket and pillows while Wednesday grabs the picnic basket and you make your way to the back of the cemetery. Placing everything down, you and Wednesday begin to eat the snacks you prepared. 

“Can I ask something without you getting offended?” You cautiously ask Wednesday, making her put down her crackers.

“I suppose that’s okay. Go ahead.” She responds.

“What makes me different? Everyone else gets this cold version of you, but I seem to get a softer side.” You grab her hand and start drawing small circles on the back of her knuckles. 

“I don’t know what you mean. I treat you the same exact way I treat everyone else.” She argues but keeps her hand held within yours. 

“Oh really? So if anyone else held your hand, you’d be fine? Or if anyone else did this?” You lean forward and gently cup the side of Wednesday’s face and bring your lips to hers. You can feel her resist the kiss and you start to pull back thinking you made a huge mistake. As a wave of embarrassment begins to wash over you, you feel Wednesday's hands on each side of your head, tangling her hands in your hair, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss; neither of you stopping until you need to come up for air. You look over at Wednesday's flushed state and start to giggle. 

“So you would let anyone else do that? I have to say, if this is gonna work, I’m gonna need that to not happen.”

“If anyone else did that to me I would gouge their eyes out and deliver them to you on a bed of roses. Only you get to do that to me, there are a lot of things you make me feel that I can not explain. It should repel me, disgust me, but one look at your smile and I now understand why the sun dies for the moon each night. Before you, I was destined to live a lonely existence. But the mere thought of never seeing you again brings me a pain that for once, I do not enjoy. I am learning that there is more to life than solitude and just living to eventually die.” Leaning over Wednesday takes the initiative to lay herself slotted between your legs, her back to your chest as she brings your hands to hold hers as they rest on her stomach. Too shocked to say anything you just squeeze Wednesday further into your arms and rest your head on top of hers. You both enjoy each others company while staring at the stars and continuing to eat the snacks you packed. 

“So what are your parents like?” You ask. “I saw their photo in that weird library we went to.” 

“My parents have always loved each other more than life itself. Growing up with them was sickening; always having to see how much they loved each other. I also have a brother, his name is Pugsley. He’s defenseless at best, he’s the reason I got sent here. There were kids at school bullying him; they tied him up and shoved him in a locker. I don’t like when people mess with the people that I care about if you haven’t noticed. Eugene reminds me a lot of Pugsley, minus the urge to strangle him constantly.”

Wednesday gets a faraway look in her eyes as she talks more about her family, her Uncle Fester, Thing. 

“Wait wait wait! So he’s actually just a hand? Like just the hand, no arm, no body and he’s able to communicate and move?” You ask excitedly, wanting to meet him immediately.

“It’s one of the great Addams Family mysteries. He’s over there by that headstone if you want to meet him. He was with us in the library as well. You’re kind of unobservant.” Wednesday laughs and snaps her fingers calling Thing over.

“Thing, this is y/n, y/n this is Thing.” Wednesday introduces.

You squeal with excitement. “Ohhhh my god. Can i pick him up? He’s so cute!” 

Thing tilts his nub of a wrist and confusingly looked at Wednesday. 

“Go ahead, she wants you to.” Wednesday reassures him. Thing walks on his fingers over to you and climbs up your leg making his was to your outstretched hand. You begin to coo and pet his palm.

“I love him, I want to take him home. He’s like a little bunny rabbit that you don’t need to feed or water.” That comment gets you flicked in the hand by Thing and you look down at him scoldingly. “Heyy. I was calling you cute, don’t make me put you in the car.” You threaten and nuzzle his palm into your hands using it they way you would rub a dogs stomach. 

“He may act like he hates it, but he actually loves the attention. He’s like a dog.” Wednesday explains as she makes him get down on her shoulder so she can take your hands in hers again. 

As you both continue to lay there you start to hear a rustling in the woods behind you. Looking over, Thing has left, already going to investigate. Grabbing Wednesdays hand with worry you pull the both of you to your feet and start packing all of the remaining food, blankets and pillows and rush to the car. 

“We need to go back and get Thing.” You breathlessly tell Wednesday.

“Thing will be fine, its what he’s made for.” Wednesday calmly states. 

“Wednesday, you said he was family. I don’t know if you’ve watched Lilo and Stitch, but no one gets left behind.” You yell, making your way back to where you were seated in the cemetery to attempt to locate Thing with Wednesday trailing behind you. Trying to remain calm you slowly make your way into the opening of the woods and are immediately met with what sounded like loud footsteps. Grabbing Wednesday and turning around to run you both stop in your tracks as you’re assaulted by the light of a bright flashlight being shone directly in your eyes.

Taglist: @athenablack1959 @lovelyy-moonlight @wednesdayiswoe @@deadpool-in-a-snood @lixeira @laurenmusic17 @antilost @donnabenevientosbitch @greygsworld @yukiunoo @dumb-ass2 @futurepiratekingfluffy @cupiocalamity @ladey

[achromatophoric]

Yoko: So you’re absolutely positive that Enid saying “howdy” isn’t like a HUGE turn on for you?

Wednesday: I should stake you for even suggesting something so asinine.

Yoko: Well, why don’t we just put that to the test? C’mon in, Enid!

Wednesday: What?

Enid: *enters dressed as a certain toy cowboy*

Enid: Look, I’m Woody! Howdy, howdy, howdy!

Enid: *tips cowboy hat and winks*

Wednesday:

Yoko: *smirks* And the verdict is?

Wednesday: *blushing* I despise you all.

Enid: 🤠

[bonetrussle]

So I've always had this head canon about how Wednesday has this reverse Morticia eyes effect (from Addams Family Values) where, instead of there being light shined dramatically over her eyes, Wednesday's face completely darkens to a very unnatural degree whenever she's feeling particularly homicidal! I wrote a bit where Yoko tried to test it out by shining a flashlight directly into Wednesday's face. Needless to say it did not go well haha. But yeh I'm adding this to my ding dang fic when I finally get around to it lol

The famous Morticia eyes from the movies:

Base sketch without the shadows under the cut!

[talesofesther]

I told the moon about you

Wednesday Addams x OC/Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds herself enchanted by the black wolf who always watches her play the cello in the dead of night.

A/N: This was written for a request sent by @roleplayfandom and I combined it with an idea of mine that I've had for a while, hope you don't mind and can still enjoy it. Arguably one of the most important stories I've written, because this oc has been my baby for so long, and I'm so happy to finally have the opportunity to include her in one of my stories; just hope I was able to do her justice with this. <3

Word count: 6,4k (sorry)

Masterlist

There was a drizzle in the air, the wind carried it around easily; tiny droplets of rain landed on the strings of Wednesday's cello that shook with each note she played.

Past the thin rain and clouds, the brightness of the full moon was nothing but a faded blur, casting a silver glow over the Addams girl and serving as the only witness to her spectacle.

The strong melody traveled with the wind same as the rain did, reaching the deepest parts of Nevermore and undoubtedly waking up a few students from their slumber. It only served as incentive — Wednesday could feel the burn on her fingertips as her song reached its momentum. The pain was welcomed, embraced.

When she released the strings, a soft sigh was let out as well. She blinked up at the moon above her, silently thanking it for its loyalty in keeping her most vulnerable moments a secret.

With uncanny delicacy, Wednesday lowered her cello, closing the case with a soft click.

The rain looked like it was starting to pick up, bigger droplets started to kiss Wednesday's cheeks, making their way down to her chin. The sky was darkening, with the moon fighting for a chance at a last goodbye to the one responsible for her favorite lullabies.

Wednesday walked up to the railings, her hands leaning against the wet concrete there. Save for the howling wind, it was strangely quiet.

But there was something different with today. Wednesday could feel it. She could feel the weight of a mysterious presence nearby.

As expected, her instincts never failed. It was dark, pitch black, the shape of trees blending together with one another in the distance.

But in the middle of the darkness, a pair of caramel eyes were spotted. They belonged to what appeared to be a black wolf; big in its size, ears pointy and tail long, fur a little spiked as it glinted from the raindrops that fell on it, almost resembling a starry night sky. It was just sitting there, on the grass of the gardens outside. Its golden eyes fixed intently all the way up to the balcony where Wednesday was standing.

The Addams girl expressed no reaction other than angling her chin up with furrowed brows, a dare; and the wolf understood, because it slowly stood up, its ears resting back against its head before it trotted out of sight and into the woods.

Wednesday remained under the rain until she could feel the wetness of it seeping into her clothes. Her hands held onto the railings tightly.

Turns out the moon wasn't the only witness tonight.

—

Those same golden eyes followed Wednesday in her dreams, and she woke up frustrated for not knowing who they belonged to.

Was it just a wild animal passing by or a student braving the woods past curfew?

The thought of the wolf being a student seemed… unlikely, because it looked much different from Enid when compared to her 'wolfed out' form. The black wolf was simply that, a wolf — albeit a tad bigger. Yet Wednesday didn't discard the possibility of it being someone. Someone who was watching her.

She tried pushing the thought out of her mind during the day for the sake of her grades.

"Miss Addams?"

Wednesday snapped her head up, only to see her anatomy teacher and the whole entirety of the class with their heads turned her way, eyes expectant as they waited for something to happen.

A scowl came to Wednesday's face at the unwanted attention. She rested both hands on her table, briefly realizing that the board had three extra paragraphs of lessons written on it that weren't in her notebook yet.

"I made you a question," the teacher continued, one of her hands coming to rest on her waist, "for how long can a gorgon stone a person?"

Wednesday gulped, her lips hovering open as she searched her mind for the useless information yet came empty-handed.

The teacher was annoying, one of the least liked by the Addams girl. She was old and wore long and colorful skirts, with obnoxiously large glasses resting atop her nose.

"It depends on the gorgon," a familiar voice suddenly said, "but usually from two to four hours."

Wednesday glanced beside her to where the owner of said voice sat, and was met with a smirk being directed at her. She huffed in annoyance, visibly rolling her eyes.

You had transferred to Nevermore a little over two months ago — adorning a pair of dark sunglasses you never took off and dressed in all black, save for the light pink pendant of your necklace — instantly getting into Wednesday's nerves the moment you stepped foot into the school and called her 'sweetheart'.

"Very well." The teacher looked between you and Wednesday, not entirely pleased that Wednesday wasn't the one who answered but deciding to let it pass, and turned around to write on the board again.

Wednesday didn't know what your deal was, no one did. No one knew who your family was, what were your abilities, or the reason you enrolled in Nevermore; not even Enid knew, and she was the gossip queen. Despite the ever-present sunglasses, one thing Wednesday knew for a fact was that you weren't a vampire, just by the way you scrunched your nose at the mere sight of blood; but that's about everything she knows so far.

Too smug for your own good, you leaned back on your chair. Wednesday could feel your gaze roaming up and down her body, before you said, quietly; "you're welcome-"

There was sunlight coming through the dusty windows. Wednesday could see her reflection in your glasses. "Shut up."

"Sweetheart," you finished with a grin.

The pencil that was thrown in your direction missed you only by an inch.

—

When Wednesday walked out onto the balcony of her dorm the next night, the wolf was already there.

She got a little taken aback by it, halting in her steps and gripping tighter onto the case of her cello. Wednesday immediately discarded the possibility of it being a coincidence or just a wild animal passing by. The wolf was there for her.

Those caramel eyes held a staring contest with Wednesday, and they eventually won. Satisfied, the wolf then lay down on the grass… and waited.

Long beats passed by until Wednesday finally sat down on her chair and adjusted her cello to be played. Her movements slow and calculated, all too aware of the heavy stare on her.

The moon was bright in the night sky, and Wednesday briefly glanced up at it, partly searching for some kind of reassurance but only finding that it wasn't a night of full moon.

When her gaze found the wolf again, she saw it looking up at the moon as well. The sharp silhouette of its muzzle being highlighted by the silver glow, fur flowing like silk with the wind.

Wolves sing for the moon, maybe that's why this one took a liking to the Addams girl.

There was hesitance on the way Wednesday's fingers hovered over the strings. Save for the occasional twitch of its tail, the wolf was unmoving on the grass, patiently watching.

Wednesday could tell the wolf to leave again, part of her knew it would obey. She didn't. She only closed her eyes, and started playing.

—

The next day, Wednesday made a trip to the school's library. She dug up every single book about werewolves and lycanthropy that she could find — some of them old, pages fragile to the touch and covered in a thick layer of dust.

The place was mostly deserted as per usual, and Wednesday saw no harm in staying. A table waited for her in the middle of the tall bookshelves, the only one hidden from sunlight.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little thrilled at the prospect of a new mystery. Things have been dull at school without an evil pilgrim trying to destroy it.

Though she was able to read in peaceful silence for all of ten minutes.

"What's with the sudden interest in furs?"

A heavy sigh left Wednesday's lips when she heard your voice. She sat straighter on her chair and chose to ignore you, pointedly turning the page of her book and focusing on it.

You hopped up on the table, sitting there cross-legged so you could face Wednesday, "you know your roommate is one, right? I bet she'd be happy to answer your questions."

See, there's a reason why Wednesday is bothered by your presence. Every time you're near, every time she can hear nothing but your voice or feel nothing but the warmth radiating from your body; Wednesday's little black heart gains a burst of color that should never exist, it picks up a faster rhythm and makes her skin crawl uncomfortably. It's a feeling that's been there once before, fleetingly, much smaller than it is now. But she's no stranger to what comes with it.

"I don't remember asking for your advice," Wednesday said, still refusing to look at you, her bangs hiding her eyes from you.

"Ouch," you mumbled, leaning back on your hands, "was just trying to help."

No one else but you could make Wednesday feel the slightest bit of remorse for snapping. And it's not like she paid attention to the last three lines she just read in the book anyway. Begrudgingly, Wednesday glanced up at you, and the moment her eyes found you, she knew it'd be a whole challenge in itself to look away again; the dim golden light of the table lamp framed your profile and the way your hair fell over your shoulder — for a second, it reminded Wednesday of her wolf.

Her wolf. The thought jolted her back to reality and she cleared her throat, heat rising to her cheeks as if you'd be able to read her thoughts.

"When are you gonna stop chasing after me like a lost puppy?" Wednesday didn't sound half as confident as she should for those words.

You raised an eyebrow at that, almost as if you wanted to be challenged. You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees, so you could cast over every twitch on Wednesday's expression, your personal space shy of mingling with hers. "When you ask me to," you whispered.

The air felt electric, there was something enticing about the way you refused to back down sometimes. Wednesday felt the hair at the back of her neck rising with a shiver. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under already — or at least fighting for air between her and this damn table. Wednesday couldn't decide which outcome she liked best.

Wood scratched against the floor as she suddenly pulled back the chair beside hers; "sit down properly, stay quiet," without looking at you, she shoved one of the books in your direction, "we're looking for a werewolf who can transform without a full moon."

—

Nothing. There was nothing in any of the books.

Wednesday walked back to her dorm without having learned a single thing. None of the books in the school had anything remotely close to the creature she saw the past two nights. Frustration was eating at her insides because she was running out of leads to follow, a dead end steadily approaching.

She went up the stairs of Ophelia Hall in a haste, pushing the door to her room out of the way and causing a loud thump that got Enid jumping on her bed, almost throwing her cell phone to Wednesday's side of the room.

"Jesus Wednesday, what did the door do to you?" Enid grumbled, sitting up on her bed.

Wednesday didn't respond, she threw her black backpack by the feet of her bed and came to stand in front of Enid. "What do you know of werewolves that can transform without a full moon?"

Slowly, a frown came to Enid's features. She turned off her phone when Wednesday kept glaring at it. "Nothing? Werewolves don't usually change without a full moon," Enid explained, confusion evident in her tone.

"And what if they did?"

"Then they're most likely not a werewolf."

Wednesday clenched her jaw in annoyance, she tugged at the tie around her neck, taking it off and messing up her hair in the process.

"Uh- my mother used to tell me about people who could shift into wolves at will, when I was younger," Enid kept going, wondering if that's what Wednesday was after.

The tie fell to her feet and Wednesday came to sit beside Enid; "tell me."

"Well, I don't know much about it, just that they're technically not werewolves. At least not like me," Enid shrugged, her colorful nails tapping her knee as she searched her brain for the stories she heard as a kid. "Oh, people used to call them hellhounds… pretty creepy if you ask me," she grimaced momentarily, "because they could change form whenever they pleased, and their… looks didn't help either, it made others scared of them. Most of the hellhounds succumbed to the fame and lived up to the name back in the 1850s I think, from what I know."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, "lived up to the name?"

"Killers," Enid gulped, "or hunters, as they'd call it. My mother always told me they were no good, so I guess the bad rep still follows," she shrugged, "maybe that's why no one has seen one for the past twenty years or so."

—

Wednesday didn't sleep that night. She kept staring at her ceiling and going over everything that Enid had told her. And the only other thought on her mind was you. It was inevitable, too fitting for it to be a coincidence.

Every time she's seen that wolf she felt the exact same tug on her heart that you so inconveniently brought. It couldn't be a coincidence.

For a week straight, Wednesday waited for the wolf to appear every night so she could start playing her cello. And every night without fail, the wolf was there; same place, same time. It would lay down, watch her, and then leave.

—

On the tenth night, Wednesday wasn't on the balcony of her dorm. She decided to break the pattern.

There was no moon in the sky tonight, it almost looked like a storm was brewing. The air was frigid outside, the grass already coated with a thin layer of ice. Wednesday enjoyed the cold, but even she was reprimanding herself for having only one coat on.

Glancing down at her phone, Wednesday saw that it was already five minutes past the usual time the wolf showed up. She wondered if it saw the empty balcony and left. Or maybe it wasn't going to show up at all tonight. She felt strangely disappointed at the thought.

A twig snapped behind Wednesday, causing her to hastily turn around with a gasp lingering on her tongue. The trees stood tall in front of her, creating a blanket of pure darkness between them, nothing could be seen. Nothing, except a pair of golden eyes. For a moment, they looked like they were floating on nothing, intently watching the girl in front of them as if she was prey.

For several beats, Wednesday waited. And then, one paw stepped out of the woods and into the grass, causing a chill to run down her back — not from fear, at least not only fear.

The name hellhound has never seemed more fitting. One paw in front of the other, white air huffing from its nose with each breath, fiery eyes, and fur as black as the night. It was almost as if darkness became alive.

Admittedly, it was bewitching.

The wolf, even on all fours, was almost as tall as Wednesday; and still, it kept its distance. If she didn't know any better, Wednesday would say it was afraid of her.

The night was suddenly calm, with not a single soul around to witness. Wednesday had come all the way down here tonight to put an end to things, discover who this wolf was and the reason behind all this… stalking?

Yet any words had died on her tongue and she found herself taking a step closer. The moment felt strangely delicate. When the wolf didn't move, she took two more steps.

Wednesday was reaching out before realizing it. The wolf's ears twitched, caramel eyes following her every move until her hand was barely grazing the dark fur. It was silky, engulfing her hand in a blanket of darkness as it sunk into the wolf's cheek.

Wednesday didn't dare breathe, trapped in a moment that felt unreal. But her attention was soon caught by a glint of color, dangling from the wolf's neck.

The wolf backed away as soon as Wednesday tried to take a closer look, bright eyes looking at her one last time before it bolted away into the woods.

—

The next night, her wolf didn't show up. And Wednesday sat on the balcony of her dorm in silence, waiting for something she knew wouldn't happen. She didn't play. Loneliness clawed at her heart.

A loneliness that shouldn't be there, but it was.

Wednesday found herself slipping away when the moon was highest in the sky, her bare feet feeling the cold of the wooden floor as she walked the empty hallways of Ophelia Hall. Maybe a walk out in the cold would take her mind of off foolish matters.

She walked until she eventually reached the main doors that led outside, stopping short of crossing the threshold. There was a figure sitting on the grass just ahead, cross-legged and looking up at the moon.

Wednesday would recognize you anywhere. She wondered why, for a fleeting second. "What are you doing?"

You tensed when you heard her voice. You had heard her coming, you heard the soft pattern of her steps down the stairs. You just weren't expecting her to talk. You didn't turn around to face her when you spoke; "admiring the moon."

Subconsciously, Wednesday's gaze shifted to the natural satellite in the sky, before settling back on you. She could barely make out the silhouette of your nose and cheeks, but she could tell you were smiling. Foolish. She thought to herself.

Why would you look at the moon as if it held your heart's affection?

Why would look at the moon like that, when Wednesday was standing right there?

The Addams girl let out an indignant scoff at her own inner thought, reprimanding herself for even coming up with it. She couldn't possibly be feeling jealous of a floating rock.

"What are you doing up?" You eventually asked, your voice gentle into the night.

If you turned around, you'd see Wednesday chewing at the inside of her cheek as she tried to chase away the mess of feelings swimming in her stomach. You'd see her take half a step toward you before deciding against it, and instead rushing back inside without giving you an answer.

But you didn't need one. Part of you already knew why she was there. It was the same for you, and it was bittersweet that you ended up meeting in the middle anyway, even if for a moment. Part of you wanted to run after her and just tell her.

—

You weren't sure why you did it.

On the first night, it was mere curiosity. You could remember the coldness of the grass beneath your paws, announcing the inevitable arrival of winter. You could remember the howling wind, causing your ears to twitch as the fur there felt sensitive to the force of it. You could remember the first drops of rain hitting your nose as you walked and how that's when you heard the first note of her song.

You followed it easily, soon finding yourself in the gardens that her balcony overlooked. And even seeing her all the way from down there, she was nothing short of entrancing. It was like you could feel her emotions through the music.

You never meant for Wednesday to see you though, even if all she'd see was a black wolf. But it happened, and yet you kept coming back, night after night; you couldn't help yourself. You started missing her. Because listening to her play felt like an escape from your unfortunate reality. It put you at ease.

But you should've known Wednesday would not settle for so little, you should've known from the moment you found her in the library, already digging up every last bit of information on anything regarding werewolves. You should've stopped then.

You didn't. Instead, you allowed her even closer, close enough to touch. On that night, part of you knew she'd already figured it all out.

—

It was a gray day outside. Fitting, you thought to yourself; as it was also your most dreaded day of the year. There was no more dodging it, you could fake sickness or an injury only so many times until it gets too obvious.

From your dorm's window, you could already see the familiar car pulling up in the parking lot. There was a bitter taste on your tongue, a suffocating feeling weighing down on your chest for what was to come. It felt like drowning.

It's tradition. That was what your father always told you. It's keeping the memory of our ancestors alive. As if they were anything worth remembering.

You couldn't care less. Part of you wanted to yell at him to stop living in the past, but you'd probably lose your tongue for that. Literally. He had called you yesterday to let you know he'd be coming, as if you weren't stressing over it for a whole week already.

There was a chilly air outside, you could feel it even before walking out the doors that led to the quad; and it was right as you were making your way out, that she bumped into you. A quiet grunt left her lips at the impact, and she only didn't fall to the ground because your hands steadied her; your hold warm on her waist, keeping her body the closer she's ever been to you.

Now, you never intended to fall for the resident Addams of the school. It just happened. Maybe it was your incredible bad luck; or those dark eyes that sometimes put the midnight sky to shame with their beauty. The teasing came with the package of your growing feelings for her, it was your natural defense mechanism whenever your heartbeat skyrocketed at the mere smell of her perfume. Though you could swear that, sometimes, you managed to get her cheeks a tad rosier than normal. It got you wondering if it was wishful thinking to consider the small possibility of her returning your affections.

"You good?" You asked, subconsciously squeezing her waist.

Wednesday stumbled back when she realized that if she leaned forward just a tad more it would result in her nose brushing yours. She blinked multiple times to focus back on you, yet the first thing her eyes found was the light pink pendant of your necklace, the very same she saw on the wolf the other night.

For someone who's always so hard to read, she let the facade slip pretty easily this time. Wednesday's features did something complicated, as if she wasn't sure what she should be feeling.

"You're my wolf," the words rolled off her tongue against her volition, her wide eyes darting from your necklace to the dark sunglasses resting on top of your nose.

An awkward chuckle escaped you. You felt a lot more timid than you thought you would, "what?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw, she felt anger but wasn't sure towards what; "you're the wolf I see every night, aren't you?"

Your lips hovered yet no words came out, you took a step away from her. If it where any other time, you'd be happy to bounce arguments off of her until inevitably confirming her idea; but her timing wasn't ideal, "W-Wednesday, now is not a good time-"

"Why did you hide it-"

"What part of 'hurry up' did you not understand?" A gruff voice interrupted both you and Wednesday. You only gulped and looked down at your feet, while Wednesday turned her head to see a tall man walking towards you. He wore a dark red suit and had the same golden eyes Wednesday saw on her wolf every night, though his held a much darker undertone to them. The man's gloved hand closed around your arm with a tight grip. "We don't have all day."

"I'm sorry, father," you mumbled as he dragged you away and you tried to keep up with his steps. You turned around to give Wednesday a last tight-lipped smile, "see you later, Wednesday."

—

The sun was nowhere to be seen when your father dropped you back at school again.

You had brushed your teeth three times already, but it still felt like the taste lingered, making you nauseous.

Part of you was grateful to have come back late, Nevermore's hallways were mostly empty at this hour already so you didn't have to explain your looks. It's not like you couldn't have freshened up at your family's cabin, you just didn't want to stay a minute longer than necessary.

So you hurried into the first bathroom you found, not really considering the fact it was a communal one and anyone could walk in on you.

—

Wednesday wouldn't call herself obsessive, more like committed. She had pending matters with you, and she was going to get to the bottom of them.

So of course she kept an eye out for when you'd return to school. She saw the car drop you off by the gates, following after you as soon as you walked inside.

When Wednesday pushed open the bathroom door, you were standing in front of the mirror, damp paper towels in your hand as you tried to clean a rather nasty cut on your cheek. Your sunglasses rested atop the sink, giving Wednesday a clear view of your eyes; they were a shade of caramel she was all too familiar with, the same ones that have been keeping her company at night.

You tensed up when you noticed her, your hand freezing midair as you were about to throw the paper into the trash can.

There was a silence that stretched uncomfortably as none of you seemed to know what to do next. You were shifting on your stance, breathing unsteadily and Wednesday feared you might run away, again.

She took a single step in your direction and asked the one thing she came for; "why have you been stalking me?"

As if breaking from a trance, you looked down and away from her; allowing your hair to fall from behind your ear and hide your profile. "I wasn't stalking you."

"What would you call standing outside my window at late hours of the night only to watch me play the cello?" Wednesday raised her eyebrow pointedly.

You chuckled humourlessly, "now you make me seem like a creep." You felt small under her piercing gaze, embarrassment twirling inside your stomach. Sure, when she said it like that, it sounded weird. But you were just enjoying good music, right?

You slowly turned around to face her, your hands gripping tightly onto the sink's edge behind you. "You never told me to leave," you said quietly.

Any words Wednesday might have thought of died on her tongue. She felt uncharacteristically shy knowing that it was you who'd been witnessing her late-night lullabies. Yet she was also glad that it was you, and not someone else.

You shrugged weakly, focusing your gaze on your feet, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just- I heard you one night and-" you glanced up at her with a bittersweet smile, fragility still lingering on your heart and making your vision blur over. Even under the cheap artificial light of the bathroom, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen; alabaster skin contrasting with soft dark hair, sharp eyes, and burgundy lips — she had your heart on a leash.

"And I was blown away," you continued quietly as your feelings escaped you, "it was like I could feel what you were feeling through the music, and it was so freeing… I had to come back to it."

There was a distant ache in Wednesday's lungs, because she refused to breathe. Her heart was thundering against her ribcage as she took in each of your words. No one has ever made her feel as if she was a piece of art, worthy of a display at the most renowned museum, like you just did.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was stalking you," you breathed.

"Why keep it a secret?" She asked then.

Her sudden gentleness startled you. You've never heard her voice so soft. "I feared you might hate me." It went beyond just late-night encounters with a wolf Wednesday didn't know was you; you feared she'd hate what you could turn into; you feared she might see you as the thing you least want to be if she ever found out what you try to hide behind sunglasses and a snarky attitude.

It's because of the way your voice breaks at the end, that Wednesday finally looks at you. And she sees the tiny splatters of blood on your cheek, a cut running from your lip to near your ear, scrapes and bruises in your hands — you're nothing short of a mess.

And you weren't hers. Wednesday knew you weren't hers to worry about, to care for, to protect. Yet she had the annoying urge to do it all anyway.

She wordlessly closed the distance between you, the sound of her boots loud against the bathroom tiles. Taking a few paper towels, Wednesday dampened their edge under the running water of the sink. She hesitated before coming closer, it felt like crossing a line, walking down a road with no way back. Her eyes never left you as she came to stand in front of you.

Your grip on the sink's edge was bruising, knuckles white. You were so quiet, so on edge, so shaky; your eyes had a darkness around them, your lips quivering. It felt all wrong. Wednesday hated seeing you like this, without your usual light.

She raised her hand slowly, stopping short of reaching your cheek, "may I?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth rushing to your heart at the delicacy you didn't know she was capable of. A barrier had fallen between you. When you leaned against her touch, Wednesday started gently cleaning the few places still stained with blood on your skin.

"Did he do this to you?" Wednesday couldn't hold the question back anymore. A different kind of anger bubbled in her chest — one that was mixed with an unusual sense of protectiveness. "Your father?"

"Not him," you choked out, unable to look her in the eyes — not wanting to, "not directly."

Wednesday frowned at that, her eyes tried to chase after yours but you avoided her.

"He makes me do it." A tear rolled down your cheek, you bit into your lip to contain a sob, "he always makes me do it."

Wednesday would never dare call herself an empathetic person, but her chest clenched in pain to see you hurt. One of your tears fell on her thumb that rested on your cheek, and she wanted to take all the pain to herself.

"But I hate it, Wednesday," you told her fiercely, desperate for her to believe you, a new batch of tears coming to your eyes when you finally looked up at her, "I hate the killing."

The moon was high in the sky when Wednesday walked out of the bathroom, with you close by her side. The darkness of the night easily hid the way her hand was holding onto yours.

And as you walked through the gardens together, Wednesday could feel the shift in the air. You had told her about the 'stupid tradition', how your family gets together once a year for the hunt, and how you felt dirty, disgusted at the feeling of sinking your canines into the white fur of the rabbit. Yet they still make you do it.

The door to her dorm came before yours. You stopped in front of it with her, nothing but the dim yellow light hanging from the ceiling to make you company. The moment felt more intimate than it should be. Wednesday didn't look like the girl who threw pencils at you in class — there was a faint blush to her cheeks and her pupils were blown wide — she looked like someone you could love.

"Why don't you ever take it off?" Wednesday asked, shooting a brief glance at the necklace hanging from your neck.

You take the light pink pendant between your fingers, tracing the nooks and crannies in it, "it was my mom's," you said softly, "she was the only person who ever told me I didn't need to be what others said I was. That I didn't have to carry the sins of my forbearers."

Wednesday nodded softly, glancing up at you before she turned around. Her hand left yours and she instantly missed the warmth there, it made her think of how lonely the nights started to feel when her wolf wasn't there.

Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob, she looked at you from over her shoulder, "if you wish to see me play, stop lurking around," she pushed the words out quickly, "Enid is out until nine most nights."

And with that, Wednesday closed the door in your face, not giving you an opportunity to ask about the abrupt invitation.

On what was usually the worst day of the year for you, Wednesday managed to make you go to sleep with a smile.

—

There was suddenly an unspoken thing in the air.

Wednesday went about her day as per usual, following her routine precisely. But there was something making her feel as if spiders were crawling around inside her stomach; it happened each time she walked into a room hoping to find you there, each time she'd feel you looking her way and doing a poor job of pretending otherwise, each time she found herself checking the time on the clock to see how long was left for the sun to set, and especially, each time Enid pointed out her looking at you.

When night came, Wednesday had her cello already set up outside, and she sat on her bed with her eyes fixed on the door. She felt a little silly, waiting on you like this even if you hadn't given her the slightest hint you'd be coming at all.

But she hoped you would.

It was two minutes past the usual time she'd go out to play her songs, that Wednesday heard three knocks on her door. She opened it to reveal you on the other side, looking as nervous as she felt.

"Hi," you greeted with an awkward smile.

"Hello," she bit back a smile of her own.

You followed after her when Wednesday quietly made her way outside. You felt a little out of place, up here instead of down there on the grass. But when Wednesday played the first note on her cello, it was as if the whole rest of the world went quiet, and it was just you and her.

You figured you'd never be able to settle on watching her from a distance anymore. Not when you'd just had a taste of listening to her music so loud and clear, of watching her up close, following each small movement of her fingers on the strings and the twitches on her expression as she immersed herself in the melody. She captivated you in a way no other soul ever did.

Wednesday had her eyes closed the whole time, she knew she'd stumble on the notes if she blinked them open and saw the way you were looking at her — she could feel it though, the weight of your gaze; it was enough.

Only when the last note stretched out, that she did look back at you. And sure enough, the song ended with abruptness as she lost her focus.

Because Wednesday realized that you were looking at her the same way you looked at the moon. Maybe you always have been, for all of those nights you laid outside in the cold only to watch her play. She wondered for a moment if that is what love looked like.

And maybe that's the reason why, before even getting up, she decided she'd take that gamble.

"You are so amazing," you breathed out, your lips hovering as you gestured around in search of words good enough to describe your feelings.

Wednesday put her cello aside, getting up from her chair to take the few steps that separated you.

"I mean, every time that I hear you play I'm just-" you choked on your words, your eyes finding hers when you realized that with each beat of your frantic heart, she was coming closer, closer.

"I'm just in love," you told her in nothing but a whisper.

Wednesday had taken a hold of your jacket, and she halted only for a second when the word love left your lips. She didn't say it, but the way she was looking at you with the softest of eyes held a lot of love too.

The kiss she pulled you into might have been long overdue, given both of your eagerness. You were quick to grasp her waist and pull her body as close to yours as humanly possible.

Wednesday cupped your cheeks, holding you in place as her nose bumped yours and she gave a gentle nip on your lower lip.

She kept her lips on yours until her lungs screamed for air, pulling away slowly, feeling each one of your deep breaths grazing her lips. Wednesday felt your nails gently pressing against her spine, she felt you trace a path from her jaw to right below her ear where you chose to place a lingering kiss.

And she knew, right then and there, that she'd never be able to look up at the moon again and not think of her wolf.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

A/N: This is a storyline I'm definitely willing to expand, so if you have any requests regarding Wednesday and her wolf, feel free to send them in.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @jjsmaybank20 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany @v1ci0us @the-nightshades-library @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @greyscxle-is-taken

[caitlynscat]

Kidnapper: You won’t be able to get out of this one, Addams.

Yoko: I fucking hate you for getting me into this, Wends.

Wednesday: I got this, Yoko. *opens her mouth*

Kidnapper: What the- what the fuck are you doing?

Wednesday, smiling: Backup.

Yoko, smiling: Enid?!

Wednesday nods

Yoko: Oh you’re dead motherfucker!

-In Enid’s Room-

The werewolf cannot hear Wednesday’s high pitched dog noise on the count of her blasting music and singing.

Enid, singing and dancing:

🎵 Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"🎵

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Wednesday, bursting through the door holding an urn: I found human remains at Goodwill.

Enid: I’m sorry, what?

Wednesday: Someone donated an urn to Goodwill and the ashes are still in it.

Enid: And so you decided to buy human ashes?

Wednesday: Yes.

Enid: From Goodwill?

Wednesday: Yes.

Enid:

Enid: I’m not even surprised.

Wednesday: Her name is Judith, I’m hoping she’ll haunt us.

Enid, in disgruntled acceptance: Yeah I know babe.

[tabrisofmars]

Wednesday holds up a bloody denim jacket: Tanaka, taste some of this blood to aid us in identifying the suspect

Yoko: Okay, first, ask me nicer. Second, I don't have to lick it, I can just smell it.

Enid: Wednesday, let me do it. I'm the werewolf.

Yoko: Whats that supposed to mean? You think you can smell blood better than a vampire?

Enid: Bestie, you could be the Queen of the Damned, and I would still sniff it better.

Yoko snatches the jacket out of Wednesday's hands: She didn't ask you, she asked the QUALIFIED blood expert

Enid grabs the sleeve of the jacket: Expert? Ajax gave you cow blood and you didn't even notice!

Yoko: Let go before you vom all over it, light weight

Enid: Don't worry, I'll aim for those Nike knock offs instead

Wednesday watches silently as Enid and Yoko fall to the ground wrestling for the jacket

Divina: Thanks for inviting me, Addams. Wanna Reese's cup?

Yoko: MUTT

Enid: HAG

[shannara810]

Just something I've been obsessing over lately 🥲 First time with a Weyler story and I've written it in a hour, so bear it with me please!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Wednesday stormed in her room, Thing on her tail.

She couldn't believe it. Her strategy had been sound, but nothing went as planned.

Rowan. Rowan had almost killed her and she would have been helpless, her death the most foolish and unsatisfactory end in all her family's history had it not been for...

And this made her soul boil even more!

"You know, for a fancy school full of Outcasts these uniforms are quite uncomfortable."

She could already see his smirk in her mind and she hated it. She hated his "I told you so" smiles, the one he reserved just for her every time he succeeded in besting her in their games.

He had saved her tonight - again! - but she would never - NEVER! - give him the satisfaction of being right. She didn't need him here.

Wednesday slowly turned around to look at the owner of the voice.

He was buttoning a shirt cuffs, his chest naked and still wet. The pants he was wearing were a little short on his tall frame and his curls... his curls stood out in all directions resembling a wild, untamed and burning forest. He looked like one of those dark heroes plasted on Enid's YA books and Wednesday hated how she could now compare him to them.

She schooled her expression to give away nothing, but her reaction made his smirk grow even wider.

"I guess you stole them."

"I prefer to say finders keepers." With the last button fastened he approached her, brushing her face with one hand. "Hello, cockroach."

"I didn't need your help." Her reply was hard and fast, like a blade to the heart. It made him chuckle.

In his eyes, she looked like an angry kitten and he fucking loved it. Her frown made her even prettier.

He was not hurt by her tone. He had known how she would react: Wednesday, after all, didn't like to show her human side but she had never learned to hide her emotions from him. His girl was spooked by what had happened in the forest tonight and sooner or later someone was going to pay for that. No one could touch his girl and live.

"Didn't seem like it to me. So, how does it feel like?"

"Feel like?"

"To lose?"

Wednesday recoiled from his warm touch, feeling scorched. His presence was a confusing influence in the dull tedium of her life and she loathed the way it made her... feel. A touch from him and her treacherous body had already forgotten everything around her.

She pushed him away, peeved by his words. He could be more poisonous than a snake when he wanted to be and his sultry tone struck her already bruised ego anew.

"Why are you here?"

He raised an eyebrow, amused.

"A little bird may have told Tante Tish about something strange happening here, so I thought I'd drop by." He tilted his head to the side, pointing at Thing on her dresser.

"Snitch!" The girl hissed.

Wednesday tried to put some distance between them, but he did not allow it.

"I told you to look after Pugsley."

"I don't think Pug will have any problems without us there, mon ange de la nuit." He took her hand. His breath was warm against it, while his full lips left a kiss. "I had a little... chat... with his bullies." He gave her one of his stares, the feral ones which made her blood sing for violence and death. "I missed you."

"Clingy overgrown dog."

His replay was silenced by the arrival of a colored cyclone with blond hair and a shrill voice. "Bestie! What happened? You were gone and..."

Enid stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Her eyes were so wide open that they were almost comical.

Her grim roomie, her gloomy bestie was in the arms of a dark and unknown boy! An almost naked boy! Did Wednesday have a secret boyfriend she never talked about?! But Enid had thought they were beginning to get close. "Who are you?"

"Hers." He replied with no shame.

"Ohhhh!"

"Stop any absurd thought currently running through your mind, Enid!" Wednesday's angry kitty expression reached new levels of cuteness and the mystery stranger looked totally entranced, almost as her roomie was his sun and stars. Were they having a forbidden affair?

"But..."

"He is just Tyler, my mother's ward. He believed I needed help in solving the mystery of the missing bodies, but he was obviously wrong."

"I thought you didn't like labels, mon cher."

"Shut. Up. Crétin!"

"Love you too, mon ange de la nuit". The boy now known as Tyler replied, unruffled. He waved his hand in Enid's direction, winking at her.

A shiver ran down Wednesday's back, as her life in that hell of school became even more complicated and her plan to run away was officially blown up.

Someone had tried to kill her tonight and she was sure Thing was going to tell her mother everything. She would have to punish him for his betrayal but first thing first, she had to stop her noisy roommate from using her blasted blog and let the truth about her... Tyler being at Nevermore.

Wednesday had never hated her life more.

[aelius29]

The Rain

It's a one shot.

Pairings: Fem reader x Wednesday Addams

A/n: it's my first time to wrote it in here. I hope you guys like it. ✨💕

And my friend help me fixing my grammar.. 😭😂

Her name @phantomverse707 . She wrote a story a h.p. fan fiction as well. I hope you guys support her. ✨🖋️

Y/n P.O.V.

We stood together, sheltered under Wednesday’s black umbrella. The soft patter of rain droplets against the fabric filled the air as I gazed out at the rain, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.

Wednesday stood silently beside me, her expression stoic as always. I could sense her eyes on me, sharp and observant, aware of my appreciation for the rain.

“You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with rain,” Wednesday noted, her voice flat, with just a hint of curiosity beneath her monotone.

I nodded, my gaze still fixed on the falling raindrops. “Yeah, I like it. It’s soothing.”

Wednesday tilted her head slightly, considering my words. “There is something strangely satisfying about the rain’s capacity to drown out the noise of humanity."

I smiled at her, surprised by her insight. “Exactly. It’s like the world just… stops. For a moment, the rain washes away all the worries and stress of the world."

Wednesday’s eyes flickered with the slightest hint of agreement. “It does have a certain tranquility. Like the prelude to a funeral.”

Without warning, I sprinted out into the rain, laughing as I let the cold drops hit my face.

“Wednesday!” I called, grinning as I spun around. “Come on, join me!”

Wednesday’s expression remained stony, though there was a flicker of something akin to annoyance—or maybe intrigue—beneath her dark eyes.

“You want me to engage in this frivolous display of joy?” she asked, her tone laced with a heavy dose of skepticism.

I nodded, my hair already soaked. “Yeah! It’s fun, you know. Live a little.”

Wednesday stared at me, visibly torn between disdain and something less familiar. Finally, she let out a resigned sigh, setting the umbrella aside. “Very well. But don't expect me to enjoy this.”

I watched, delighted, as she stepped into the rain. Her dark hair quickly became wet, framing her pale face in sharp lines. She looked almost ethereal, like a gothic painting come to life.

“You’re actually doing it,” I said, still amazed she’d joined me.

“I’m merely proving a point,” she muttered, trying—and failing—to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching upward.

We ran through the rain, hand in hand. Her grip was cold, firm, and oddly comforting. The rain poured down around us, soaking us to the bone. I glanced at Wednesday, her eyes glinting with something that almost resembled amusement.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” I laughed, feeling more alive than I had in ages.

Wednesday huffed, her attempt at a smile barely visible. “It’s… tolerable.” Her voice was quieter, almost lost in the sound of the rain.

I released her hand and spun around, letting the puddles splash up against my legs as I danced. I glanced back at Wednesday, half-expecting her to roll her eyes, but instead, she watched with something like fascination.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but there was no venom in her words, just a dry observation.

I laughed, unbothered. “Yeah, but who says that’s a bad thing?”

For a moment, she stood there, just watching me, as if seeing me clearly for the first time. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe even admiration, though she would never admit it.

Wednesday P.O.V.

Watching Y/N dance in the rain, utterly unrestrained and blissfully unaware of how foolish she looked, stirred something within me. It was an unfamiliar sensation, irritatingly close to… admiration.

She was always so composed, so confident. But here, she was raw, joyful, and unabashedly herself. It was maddening and captivating all at once. I couldn’t look away.

When she reached out to me, her hand dripping with rain, I hesitated. I was not one for touchy displays of affection, but there was something disarming about her expression.

Reluctantly, I took her hand again, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, a stark contrast to the cold rain. She pulled me closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Dance with me.”

I scowled, resisting the pull. “I don’t dance,” I stated flatly.

“You don’t have to know how,” she replied, her tone annoyingly cheerful. “Just move.”

I let her lead me, feeling awkward and exposed. My limbs felt heavy, resistant to the idea of surrendering to something so… whimsical. But as we moved together, my body loosened, if only slightly. It was uncharted territory—dancing, in the rain, with someone who made me feel less like a shadow and more like a person.

And despite myself, I didn’t hate it. In fact, it was almost... enjoyable. I, Wednesday Addams, was enjoying myself. Absurd.

Y/N smiled at me, her laughter blending with the sound of the rain. “We’ll have to do this again. Same time, next storm.”

I gave her my best stoic glare, but I could feel the corners of my mouth betraying me with the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t get any ideas,” I grumbled, though the words lacked their usual bite.

She chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, no ideas at all,” she said with feigned innocence, her tone dripping with false sincerity.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help the flutter of anticipation that her words stirred. The idea of doing this again, of sharing these stolen moments, didn’t seem as intolerable as it should have.

The End ....

A/n: thank you for reading ✨🍂

Edit: I'm sorry if i-edit some of the scenes if u notice. 😭

[hansortega]

Look at her Lucious thighs and her beautiful skin, absolute perfection. Walking up behind her and grabbing onto her, as she feels my hard rocket rest on her booty. Caressing her body slowly making my way to her soft jiggly boobies. Passionately kissing Jenna all over her neck, turning her on. Then sliding my hand back down to her legs, starting to rub her wet slit. Moaning for me to do so many naughty things to her.

[wednesdayontwt]

[boojangs]

You, Me, Us: The Final Chapter

Spotify, play She Looks So Perfect.

[achromatophoric]

Bianca: What.

Yoko: The.

Divina: Fuck?

[i984]

Your Love, My Religion

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, childhood best friend! Wednesday Addams, canon-divergence because there's no Tyler, it's Parent's Weekend but this detail is useless, Pugsley LOVES you, kissing but weird 'cuz you'll see, author is in their experimental phase.

|Summary|: It only takes half a semester away and a stupid (yet surprising) school event to get Wednesday quit being a coward.

|A/n|: This was requested by my wife @wol-fica and reposted because yesterday the tags hate me.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bewitching.

You were that in so many ways.

And now, as Wednesday locks eyes with you from across the quad—past all the bustling crowd of students and parents of Nevermore Academy—she realizes the fact hasn't changed, not one bit.

Her foot took a step forward for her. Then another. And another. Before she knew it, she was already heading toward you—bumping and trampling past the people she couldn't care less for—her heart hammering wildly against her chest.

You've always had that effect on her.

When your parents brought you for a playdate years ago, Wednesday had locked you in one of the rooms of the Addams family mansion. But instead of crying or screaming for help, all she heard you do was mutter a small okay and bye-bye. 

And she was content to let you rot and die a slow death, but when she pressed her ear to the wood and heard your faint giggles, she had to open the door to see what had brought you glee amidst her kidnapping.

She found you—sitting with your legs crossed on the floor—petting Nero, her pet scorpion on your lap, with a fascinated look on your face.

Ever since that day, 5-year-old Wednesday Addams would invite you to playdates every week without fail with excuses like, "Nero loves your pets more than mine," or, "Nero wants you to come over."

Even after the scorpion's tragic death a year later, she allowed you to continue visiting her weekly. Your title had changed from 'playdate partner' to 'study partner' as soon as both of you went to the same elementary school, and you've been joined by the hips with the Addams girl ever since. 

The weekly visits grew into daily ones, and soon, Wednesday would spend nearly every waking hour of the day with you, filling her childhood with memories of endless thrilling adventures.

She'd never admit this to anyone, but she respects you for not judging her for who she is. Other people had called her a freak, a menace to society, and Wednesday couldn't care less about them, especially when you look at her with so much kindness and passion every time she talks about torture methods or unsolved murder cases. 

You were there when Pugsley was born, and Wednesday blames you for the tender personality his brother would later develop. In a way, you raised Pugsley just as much as she did, and it proved to earn you an unbreakable bond with the boy. 

And that's why as she gets close enough to you, she can see Pugsley standing on your side, holding your hand—a perfect mirror of the picture she had seen a thousand times growing up.

Her breathing quickens, and so do her steps; Wednesday was basically sprinting at you with butterflies in her stomach. But she didn't care because you met her halfway and embraced her with a ferocity that nearly matched hers. 

"I missed you so much," You whisper, and Wednesday swears to memorize the sweet sound. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing your voice until now.

"You came."

"Pugsley invited me for this Parent's Weekend thing," You mumbled into her shoulder before pulling back to look at her face properly, "I know it hasn't even been a semester since you moved, but I have to see you again."

Wednesday almost melts then and there at the intensity of your words and how you look at her with so much compassion and trust—like you knew she'd never hurt you or betray your devotion. 

And she wouldn't. Not when her lips are so close to yours, with your breath fanning her face, nose scrunched adorably. 

You look perfect, like the last time Wednesday was in the same position with you, the night before she had to leave for Jericho and this damned school that has cursed her entire being. 

Last time, she acted like the coward she was, turning her face away from your longing gaze, heart too weak to leave you if she'd kissed you goodbye. 

But now, as Fate has presented her a second chance, Wednesday grabbed your jaw and pressed her lips to yours. Unlike last time, her move was sure as she felt your soft silken lips on her chapped ones. And when you kissed her back—with the same tenderness that she finds in your eyes, words, and touch—warmth fills her pitch-black heart, luring her deeper into your spell.

She kisses you like a prayer—your lips the altar, your love her false God—and Wednesday now understands how man can sink so deep into their religions; to die for their Gods. 

Because she would die for you, kill for you, live for you, and unlike last time, she'd gladly sin over and over again, redeeming herself on the lips that perfectly match hers.

The bewitching you; her life was a living testament to that. And she'd never let you go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list is in the comments or else this post breaks.

|A/n2|: I am never posting this day of the week ever again. Also I forgot to say thank you to 700 of you! 🥲💖

Edit: NOW I FORGOT TO ADD TAGS TO MY POST HELP WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME-

[talesofesther]

this town’s for the record now

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Distance is a strange concept. Jenna feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world. If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.

Requested by @thenextdawn

A/N: Tweaked the idea just a slight bit but I hope you like it, sweetheart. I wrote half of this very much sleep deprived so if anything is weird blame it on that, also take some technical things here with a grain of salt because I know very little about how shooting movies/series works. Much love babes. <3

Word count: 5k (this got out of hand pretty fast)

Masterlist

The airport was bustling with people. Some arriving, tiredness clouding their features along with happiness as they were welcomed by loved ones; others speeding down the halls, suitcases in hand as they rushed to not miss their flights.

Jenna, though her flight was about to leave, was stalling. Her gaze skimmed over the crowd around. Her hands tightly held onto yours, as if you'd disappear if she loosened her grip.

And she wasn't too far off.

You brushed your thumb over the skin on her hand, trying to convey some sense of calmness, "I think it's time for you to go, otherwise the plane will leave without you."

Jenna grinned half-heartedly, swinging your joined hands around as she leaned her head on the wall to her right. "Would it be too bad if I let that happen?"

It was your little moment of peace. This corner of the airport suddenly became your fleeting safe haven for a precious second.

"I think," you started, pulling her towards you so you could wrap her in a hug, "some people would be very mad at you if you missed this flight."

Jenna encircled her arms around your waist, closing her eyes as she nuzzled her face on your shoulder, "I'd be with you though," she mumbled, words muffled against you.

Pulling back so you could look at her, you took hold of her hands again.

Honestly, you were striving to keep a strong facade on, to be the support you knew she needed. But deep down, you were holding back your own tears.

"It'll go by quickly, you'll see."

"It's eight months," Jenna sighed, "all the way on Romania. I'm excited about it, but, I never stayed away this long."

The 'we never stayed apart this long' went unsaid.

And it was true. It made you think for a moment that, to the naked eye, you two could easily be seen as a couple delaying their inevitable goodbye. That wasn't the case though, there wasn't a label to what you and Jenna were. Not yet. And it would have to wait until she came back.

"You'll be alright, I know you will," you encouraged, "you're gonna nail this role. You'll be the best Wednesday this world has ever seen," you smiled proudly, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

It got Jenna chuckling, all teary-eyed and flushed cheeks. "You'll text me every day, right? Call too?"

"Of course I will, I already miss you," you pouted.

She squeezed your hands, "promise?"

"Promise."

—

For those eight months, you kept your promise.

Every day you texted, called, and sometimes video-chatted with Jenna; checking up on her, lifting her mood, or simply talking.

You missed her more than you ever missed anyone in your life, and you could tell she felt the same. But for a while, it was bearable, because you talked every day.

Until Jenna started breaking the pattern.

It started slow, but steady. One unanswered text here, one missed call there, and suddenly you went two or three days without talking to each other.

It was comprehensible, Jenna was working after all. So you didn't think anything of it when the new normal became calling each other every four or five days.

But when those days spaced out, you counted yourself lucky if you heard from her at least once a week, and then every two weeks — her responses short and to the point.

Yet you kept sending her texts; simple 'good mornings' and 'hope you have an awesome day on set'. Because you promised you would, she asked you to.

Even if, involuntarily, you started to feel like a bit of a nuisance to her when she answered you with a plain 'u too' every now and then.

It happened slowly; Jenna became a stranger. A stranger you still loved greatly.

—

Hey Jen, how have you been? I just wanted to let you know that I got the role for that movie I texted you about a few weeks ago. So yeah, I'm very excited. Hope everything is well, I really miss you.

You stared at the message on your phone, your finger hesitating to tap the send button. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to get rid of the nerves.

Sometimes it hurts, because it wasn't like this — though that reality feels very far away now.

The filming process for Wednesday wrapped almost three months ago. You knew that because right before she left Romania, Jenna had called you, and for a lovely moment, things felt okay; you could hear the tears in her voice when she told you how much she missed you, apologizing over and over for not keeping in touch and saying how much she couldn't wait to be back, promising to come see you soon.

But that never happened.

You haven't seen Jenna ever since you said goodbye to her at the airport, ten months ago.

You guessed that's what distance does to people.

Yet, the stubborn part of you still texts her sometimes, because when you close your eyes all you can see is that teary-eyed Jenna who made you swear to always keep in touch with her. So you do. You tell her about your little bits of progress in the acting career, about some roles you manage to get, and if you're lucky, you'll get a response with 'congratulations'.

As of today, you haven't heard from her in two months. And if you cried about it a few nights ago, that's no one's business.

You understand she's busy, you see it in her on every interview that you watch — because you know her, you know the way her posture changes when she's getting tired, you know her mannerisms when she's nervous, you know when her smile is not the brightest it can be — but you think that, if she felt for you as much as you feel for her, she'd try to keep in touch. She would come to see you.

You pressed send on the message and put your phone back in your pocket the very next second.

Sad as it may seem, you didn't expect an answer.

—

"Hey, wait up."

You looked back over your shoulder, only to see your cast mate jogging up to you in the parking lot, big smile on his face.

"Something wrong?" You asked, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder.

"No, not at all," he told you as he caught his breath, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder, "I just wanted to say, you did really good in there."

You averted your gaze when you felt your cheeks warming up, getting compliments from people infinitely more talented and popular than you would always feel surreal.

"I mean it," he ducked down, searching for your eyes, "that was one of the best monologues I've witnessed in a while."

"Thank you," you chuckled nervously, "it means a lot coming from you."

He waved off your words as if telling you, yet again, to stop putting him on a pedestal. "That being said, I've been meaning to ask if you'd be willing to audition for my next movie."

To say your eyes widened in surprise was an understatement, you asked him to repeat himself and he did; grinning fondly, telling you all about the natural talent you have and how he couldn't forgive himself if he allowed it to go to waste.

You, of course, agreed promptly. And squealed like a schoolgirl once he was out of earshot.

Before you got into your car, you took your cell phone from your backpack, still bubbling with excitement as the offer didn't quite feel real yet.

For a fleeting second, the sight of your last unanswered text when you opened the conversation didn't make your heart clench in pain.

Jenna, you won't believe what just happened…

—

The production of a movie of this caliber wasn't like anything you'd done before; there were so many things going on all at once, so many more people involved, so much more work for you — comes with the territory when playing the main character, you knew that, but still, it was all somewhat new for you.

By the end of most weeks, you were absolutely exhausted.

You pushed open the door of your trailer with a groan, rubbing your temple to try and chase away the beginnings of a headache.

The only lights you turned on were the ones in your little kitchen area, keeping the place dimly lit so it was easier on your tired eyes.

Not bothering to change out of your work clothes for now, you threw yourself on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt your muscles relax.

Maybe it was the late hour and the vulnerability of your worn-out body; but most nights after a busy day, you found your mind drifting to memories that involved a certain someone. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could pretend to be back there — your shoulder pressed snuggly against hers as she told you all about her day on set, her fingers sneaking to intertwine with yours, the weight of her head when she'd inevitably succumb to sleep against you — memories exist outside of time anyway.

When the screen of your phone lit up, you swore you could almost feel your heartbeat stumbling. You picked it up so fast that it almost fell on your face.

Jenna's name was on your screen, and you hated the way that it brought tears to your eyes.

You hesitated when opening the text, not daring to breathe or get your hopes up.

'That's exciting' was her response to your rather long list of unanswered texts, the last one being the one of you talking about the new movie you're working on.

No 'how are you', no 'I miss you'.

You closed your eyes and felt a tear running down your cheek, typing back the one thing you felt;

Sometimes I wish I had let that plane leave without you.

—

The movie you starred in ended up being the push you needed to be recognized. It was a success, and you were the reason why.

It premiered only a few weeks after Wednesday did. Jenna became known worldwide, and you sort of did too.

And that's what it took for you to finally see each other again.

If someone told you a year ago that you'd be attending the Golden Globes, you'd call them crazy. Yet here you are; timidly smiling as a billion cameras flash in front of your eyes.

And in the midst of greeting acquaintances, posing for pictures, and talking to reporters, your eyes caught sight of her.

She was nothing short of divine, soft pinkish-brown dress fitting her to perfection and her hair way shorter than when you'd last seen her. You didn't think Jenna could ever be more beautiful, but she's apparently always proving you wrong.

It felt like a gravity pull on your heart, urging you to walk closer to her, and if you ditched a reporter or two along the way, you couldn't care less. Your stomach was twirling in apprehension, it shouldn't be but it is, because sad as it feels, you don't know what you mean to each other anymore.

Jenna had her back to you as she spoke with someone you didn't know. You could feel your hands slick with perspiration when you cleared your throat a little awkwardly. She probably didn't hear, so you resorted to lightly tapping her shoulder.

It felt like seeing her for the first time in your life at the same time that it felt like you never parted ways at all. Though there was this painful squeezing in your chest that's never been there before. You smiled softly, breathing out a simple; "hi."

Jenna's eyes widened the slightest bit when she saw you, her lips hanging open when she had trouble forming words; it was a one-second thing, she was quick to recover and get her features back to impassive. Something you knew all too well was a bad habit of hers — suppressing what she's feeling.

"Hi, I- I had no idea you'd be coming," she told you, her eyes unable to find a place to focus on your face.

You pursed your lips, acutely aware of the cameras on every corner of the place. "Yeah, I tried to tell you but, you must've missed my text." The words felt heavy on your tongue, your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I didn't mean-" Jenna's voice broke halfway through and she clamped her mouth shut to avoid a making scene.

It got you looking up to meet her gaze, and there were so many emotions swimming in her eyes that you couldn't put your finger on any of them.

Before you or she could say anything else, a reporter was calling out for Jenna, drawing both of your attention.

Jenna glanced between you and the reporter, before adjusting her posture and managing a smile. "I'll see you later, okay?" She told you, already turning away from you.

"No, Jenna wait, can't we talk?" You tried reaching out for her hand but she pulled away.

"Not right now."

"I just wanted to-"

She glanced back at you, taking hold of her dress in a white-knuckled grip to pull it up so she could walk faster; "I can't deal with you right now, okay? Please stop… crowding me."

Her voice had little emotion to it, but it froze you in place nonetheless. You figured a knife to the heart might hurt less.

Jenna walked away from you, smiling and waving to the cameras whilst you strived to not make the headlines as the actress who cried at the Golden Globes for apparently no reason.

So you were right in the end, she saw you as nothing but a nuisance.

—

There was a team waiting to help her get rid of the makeup and glam if she so wanted, but Jenna sent them away.

After such an event, there was nothing she desired more than peace.

Jenna's steps were slow and dragged as she made her way inside her hotel room, still holding onto her long dress, though with much less care than she did in front of the cameras. Part of it is always an act.

She ran a hand through her hair, messing up the previously perfectly styled waves with a sigh.

The shower had been long awaited and she almost napped on the bathtub; not really bothering to meticulously clean up the makeup, leaving a few smudges of eyeshadow here and there — that could be a problem for tomorrow.

And there was nothing more blissful than putting on sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

Her life has been nothing short of hectic ever since starting the filming for Wednesday, so Jenna enjoyed 200% every little time to relax that she had. Though today, she was restless, something had a tight hold on her chest and she couldn't pinpoint what.

She tossed and turned on her bed, unable to sleep even if she was exhausted and she wasn't sure why insomnia decided to kick in now.

That is, until she took her cell phone and a few clips of the event started popping up on the internet, and she caught sight of a picture where, in the background, she could be seen talking with you.

Oh.

That's where this hollowness is coming from.

The bedroom was quiet, the only things she could hear if she strained her ears were the cars way down on the road outside and the faint drizzle that started falling.

It was so quiet, so calm, that for the first time, Jenna felt it. She felt the weight of the past months downing on her.

Jenna had been running on autopilot, so much so, that she became numb to a few of her own emotions. And maybe a few people too.

There was a sudden lump in her throat. Jenna sat up quickly on her bed, clawing at her chest because she couldn't breathe. She mumbled curses under her breath, vision instantly getting blurred as tears collected on the bottom lid of her eyes.

If this wasn't a panic attack, it was something very close to it.

Jenna scrambled for her phone and hastily typed your number on it, shaky fingers bringing the device to her ears.

She held onto her breath when the line started ringing; and when it rang for the last time, she was already sobbing.

"No, no, no," she stumbled out, trying again, "please pick up, please," the pleas fell out of her mouth with broken syllables.

Distantly, she knew she had it coming, she hadn't been fair with you, or with herself. You were Jenna's weakest point, if she had allowed herself to miss you, she'd drop everything to go back. So she bottled up the feeling.

But sooner or later, it would surface, and it hurts more than she thought it would — because maybe her decision had cost her you.

Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, with tears trickling down her cheeks and dripping from her chin — she felt alone, so excruciatingly alone.

Jenna didn't sleep that night.

—

For the months that followed, Jenna tried calling you multiple times.

You never answered.

—

It didn't take long for Wednesday to be renewed for season two. It also didn't take long for filming to start.

Jenna saw herself going back to staying in a foreign country for months in what felt like no time at all. But this time around she knew what to expect, how to prepare herself for it.

Or that's what she had hoped, because when she stepped foot on set, she was greeted with the sight of none other than you. You who was animatedly talking with Emma as you held a few papers in your hands; a script, Jenna presumed. A script that had Wednesday written on its cover.

Jenna halted on her steps immediately, sneakers scratching against the floor; the grip she had on her backpack tightening significantly. No amount of internal pep talks could ever prepare her for this.

Next thing she knew, Emma had caught sight of her and was walking in her direction with you hot on her tail. Jenna felt like curling into a ball to try and disappear — not because she didn't want to see you, but because of what she did last time it happened. Part of her knows she won't be able to face your rejection without breaking.

"Jenna, you're finally here," Emma pulled her friend into a hug. Jenna held her back promptly, grateful to have something to momentarily hold on to.

"Yeah," she breathed, "it was a- a long flight." She couldn't help the way her eyes darted to you. And you were so… blank, emotionless.

"Have you met our new cast member? This is Y/n." Emma happily gestured to you, taking a step back so Jenna could properly see you.

There was a heaviness in the air, more than a year's worth of bottled-up feelings just hanging on by a thin thread. Jenna gulped back the lump forming in her throat. It was longing and hurt and guilt altogether.

She had never felt this. Missing someone to the point of feeling like your chest is being ripped open, as if they're on the other side of the world even if, in reality, they're right in front of you — just a few inches forward and she'd touch you. Yet it feels impossible.

"Hi," was all Jenna could utter.

You nodded once, with a clenched jaw and crossed arms, "hi Jenna."

—

You were avoiding her.

And it was nothing short of torture.

You were avoiding Jenna, as much as two people who work together can avoid each other, but still, you were doing a terrific job. Jenna only caught glimpses of you when it was absolutely necessary.

She had this hole in her chest; it made her restless and anxious. It's been only a week and Jenna already feels like she can't take it anymore. She knows it's affecting her work; she's not able to focus the way she did before, she finds herself zoning out whilst looking at doorways and waiting for you to walk in — most of the time you never do.

Right now, Jenna is sitting in front of a mirror as she gets her hair done for the day. She arrived a little late today, her sleepless nights finally catching up to her right on a Tuesday morning.

The distant smell of hair spray still hung in the air, the bright lights around the mirror still hurt her sleepy eyes so she keeps them closed, enjoying the feeling of the hairdresser doing her braids. She paid no mind when she heard the door opening or when the chair beside hers creaked. Only opening her eyes when your voice greeted the other people in the room.

Jenna didn't dare breathe. She looked at you through the mirror, your gazes meeting for half a second before you averted yours.

Was it too bad that she already kinda felt like crying?

There was this painful tug on her heart whenever Jenna did see you. It felt like remembering all of your good memories all at once — and they mocked her, told her she'd never have anything like it again.

Distance is a strange concept. She feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world.

If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.

You're looking everywhere except at her. It's almost bittersweet that Jenna can tell exactly just how nervous you are. Fidgeting on your seat, tapping your knee.

For a moment she wants to reach out and hold your hand, it used to calm you down, ground you.

She doesn't. Instead, she asks; "have you been enjoying the filming so far?" The words tasted strange on her tongue. Like they're all wrong and it's not what she should be saying to you when there's a ten-foot wall between you and her.

You hesitated, as if wondering if she was really talking to you. "Uh yeah, it's been a great experience so far," you said eventually, choosing to glance up at her through the mirror instead of turning your head to actually meet her gaze.

Jenna smiled, just a soft tilt of her lips.

Every minute that you weren't hers was a minute of pure agony.

And it was hardly the proper place for it, but with not knowing when she'd have the opportunity to speak with you again, Jenna took in a deep breath, and tried; "look, I- I've been meaning to apologi-"

"Not now, Jenna," you cut her off pretty quickly, drawing the attention of the few hairdressers around you. You cleared your throat; "we can talk about this later."

—

Ultimately, there was no 'later'. Jenna couldn't get a moment alone with you after that, and you made no effort either.

But when you love someone enough, you tend to make a few reckless decisions.

Jenna was staying in the same hotel as you, just a few doors away from yours, and she was a good actress.

It was late at night when you unlocked the door of your hotel room. You turned on the lights and instantly jumped back, almost tripping on your own feet; your soul leaving your body for a second.

"What the hell," you mumbled, with a hand over your erratic heart.

Jenna raised her hands and took a step back, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just me."

"How-" you gestured towards her, taking your backpack off your shoulder as the door clicked close behind you, "why-"

"Security let me in… I convinced them," she explained, a faint blush tainting her freckled cheeks as she felt strangely self-conscious under your gaze.

The hotel room wasn't big, quaint with its industrial-styled decorations and orange lighting; but with just the two of you occupying the space, it felt all kinds of intimate.

You scoffed, walking past her and to the bedroom without a second glance, "so much for security."

It hurt, way more than Jenna would care to admit. But part of her knew she brought it on herself. She followed after you, burying her hands in the pockets of her hoodie to hide the slight tremble of her fingers.

Your bedroom was even plainer than the main rooms. All your belongings are pushed to one side and filled only the lonely dresser by the ensuite bathroom door. It reminded Jenna of her own room.

She lazily brought her gaze back to you, her stomach twisting unpleasantly with apprehension; "I just wanted to talk."

Jenna's voice was small, uncharacteristically so, tugging at your heartstrings with each syllable.

This was just Jenna. No actress. No star. Just your Jenna.

You almost gave in right then and there.

But you had your back to her, fidgeting with the zipper on your bag to keep yourself busy. Her presence, her perfume, it filled the whole room, "now you want to talk?"

"I know, I was an- an awful friend to you," Jenna started, unable to stay still on her stance, "I know I should've called more and I'm so-" a sob broke through her voice, you were nothing but a blur in front of her.

"I'm so sorry for what I said," it was nothing but a whisper, said while Jenna hugged herself tightly, chasing some semblance of comfort that wasn't there. Her sudden vulnerability startled you.

You heard it loud and clear, it brought tears to your own eyes, even if you had promised you wouldn't cry anymore.

"That I was just something you had to deal with?" You finally turned to look at her then, and you strived to keep yourself impassive, because Jenna was far from okay.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears that were just a blink away from spilling over. She looked so small in the spacious room. "That's not true. Not what I meant."

"Well, that's what it felt like, okay?" Your months of hurting escaped you, "so I'm sorry I kept my promise and I'm sorry it crowded you but you-" you took in a shaky breath to steady yourself, glancing up at the ceiling then back at her, "you meant a lot to me, Jenna…"

It was all it took for Jenna to break, because she saw herself being back in that airport with your hands holding onto her so tightly — and she missed you, so unbelievably much. She could taste her own tears on her lips, the grip she had on herself was almost bruising as soft sobs shook her body; "You mean everything to me, you have to know that. And losing you…" she hesitated, as if fearing that saying the words out loud made them true, her lower lip wobbling, "there's nothing I regret more."

You almost didn't catch her words given the unsteadiness of her voice. It was too much for you and your bleeding heart. You couldn't physically bear to stay one second more away from her.

You walked closer slowly, tentatively, until you were able to embrace her to you.

Jenna buried herself into you, her tears soaking your shirt as you practically held most of her weight all on your own. She held you so strongly you almost had trouble breathing.

For a moment it was all that was needed, you and her holding what was left of each other together.

"I never meant for it to happen," Jenna whispered against you, damp lips grazing the skin on your shoulder, "I never- I was in a bad place and, after the f-filming for Wednesday wrapped up I got called for so many other things I didn't even have time to breathe." She curled herself onto you, her grip only tightening as if trying to merge you into her so you'd never part ways again.

You ran your hand up and down her back, leaving goosebumps on her skin and feeling your own tears trickling down your cheeks. There's no putting into words how much you're able to miss someone until you're holding them again. Until you can finally come home to each other.

For the first time in more than a year, you could breathe.

"I'm so tired," Jenna's small voice came again, tender, right beside your ear, "everything was so overwhelming, I- I felt so alone," she nuzzled her nose against your neck, and you wondered for a moment how long it's been since she allowed herself to receive any kind of comfort.

A beat passed until you were able to find your voice again, a little hoarse and unsteady; "you could've told me, I would've been there, Jenna. You know I would've done anything and more to help you."

With a sniff, Jenna finally pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, "I know," she pursed her lips, one hand coming up to brush at her cheek, damp with tear tracks — testimonies of her wounded heart that pulses with each beat for you, for you, for you.

With your silence, Jenna kept going, if anything, out of desperation; "I'm so sorry, please I- you must know I never meant for it to go like that."

Teardrops clung to her eyelashes too, eyes shining brightly under the dim lights of the bedroom and her nose a little red. Oh, how you missed her.

You gently raised your hands to her cheeks, your thumbs brushing away a few tiny tears that still escaped her. "It's okay," you breathed.

"Please don't leave me," she mumbled, a soft sob cutting through.

"Not leaving," you promised, leaning up to kiss her forehead, "I'd never leave you."

When her eyes found yours again, Jenna stumbled forward out of instinct, her nose bumping yours.

You closed the gap with the encouragement you knew she needed, "you know I'm never capable of staying mad at you for too long," you chuckled, your lips grazing hers. You were home.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf @smugchorizo @the-lazy-turtle @vorsdany @jjsmaybank20 @wol-fica @v1ci0us

[sxphr]

Wednesday: Enid cried for a week after watching Toy Story 3.

Yoko: Girl- Are you good.

Enid: Hey, it's a very emotional movie guys.

Wednesday: She was inconsolable.